times when the gods, descending upon earth, took an active part
in the everyday life of mortals. Nothing reminds one of a modern
drama, though the exterior arrangement is the same. "From the
sublime to the ridiculous there is but a step," and vice versa.
The goat, chosen for a sacrifice to Bacchus, presented the world
tragedy (greek script here). The death bleatings and buttings of
the quadrupedal offering of antiquity have been polished by the
hands of time and of civilization, and, as a result of this process,
we get the dying whisper of Rachel in the part of Adrienne Lecouvreur,
and the fearfully realistic "kicking" of the modern Croisette in
the poisoning scene of The Sphinx. But, whereas the descendants
of Themistocles gladly receive, whether captive or free, all the
changes and improvements considered as such by modern taste,
thinking them to be a corrected and enlarged edition of the genius
of Aeschylus; Hindus, happily for archaeologists and lovers of
antiquity, have never moved a step since the times of our much
honoured forefather Hanuman.

We awaited the performance of Sita-Rama with the liveliest curiosity.
Except ourselves and the building of the theatre, everything was
strictly indigenous and nothing reminded us of the West. There
was not the trace of an orchestra. Music was only to be heard
from the stage, or from behind it. At last the curtain rose. The
silence, which had been very remarkable before the performance,
considering the huge crowd of spectators of both sexes, now became
absolute. Rama is one of the incarnations of Vishnu and, as most
of the audience were worshippers of Vishnu, for them the spectacle
was not a mere theatrical performance, but a religious mystery,
representing the life and achievements of their favourite and most
venerated gods.